Scratches
by iiShuChan
Summary: BE WARNED: Character Death. Arthur, an up-and-coming horror novelist, rents out an old Victorian manor that lies on the outskirts of Rothbury to help in writing his new book. The beautiful and elegant home hides a deep, dark, bloody secret that Arthur uncovers through his stay during the rainy weekend. (Implied AusHun, GerIta, and Spamano) Rated M for later chapters. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! I'm starting this while I finish my layouts for Our Confusing History and Slender 2! I've got a lot of planning to go through for those before I can just write away like I normally do. Honestly, most of my stuff I don't even think through, the words just come out as I type. **

**But this, this is different. **

**When I was about twelve or thirteen (maybe fourteen, can't remember), my best friend's mother got this game that she ripped and burnt onto a disc for me and my mother to play so we could swap tips and stuff. So, I was obsessed with the game for the better half of the year after I got it until me and my mother beat it and I lost it. The game was called Scratches, it's set in (I do believe, I'll correct myself later once I look it up) Northumberland, England around the year 1976 and it's about a novelist who specializes in the horror genre. He rents an old Victorian manor that either lays on the outskirts of Rothbury or right on the edge of Rothbury (can't remember that either, it's been years!) to help his muse for his newest book. So I won't spoil anything (seeing as this will be horror), let's just say...'some shit goes down', 'kay? ^_^**

**So, our dear beloved Arthur Kirkland ****_(Why is it always me..?)_**** who I am overly mean to, will take the place of the author (who's real name was Michael, for those of you who would want to know). I'll have to re watch a let's play of Scratches to get all the characters (even though most are dead) so I can replace them with our beloved Hetalia characters but I don't believe I'm going to make any pairings in this. There may be some implied, but nothing for sure.**

**This story will probably be in Arthur's point of view, I'm not sure I'm not to good with first person. I will, however, write the first chapter in first person because that's how the game starts out. Everything else, aside from Michael's thoughts, were in second person, obviously...so I suppose we'll just see how things turn out, shall we?**

**Well, that said, I'll make my disclaimer and get along with the story! I hope everyone likes it and that it becomes very popular because (even though the game is practically hidden in the shadows) the game was absolutely amazing!**

**(P.S: Don't hate me for what I'm going to do to our lovely Austria and Hungary, alright? Story's sake!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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****I arrived at Edelstein Manor one cold, dreary Saturday morning. A heavy blanket of fog rolled in as a light drizzle started beating against my windshield. I pulled up to the gate that protected the house from trespassers and got out, unlocking it and pulling one side open. My car was a beat up old hand-me-down from my oldest brother. I dare not turn it off in fear of it not starting back up again before I can get it pulled into the drive. As I made my way to the car and got back in, the fog had thickened reasonably as the rain started to beat slightly harder than before.

The car made it's slow way through the opened gate and into the drive. I parked it and cut it off, the engine making a slight groan as it cooled down. Knowing how this car works, that was probably a sign that it wasn't going to start back up any time soon. I opened my door and got out, walking to the gate and locking it back. As I turned to look at the house through the fog that kept rolling in smoothly, I sighed to myself. It was a moderately old home, probably built in the early 1800's and as far as I know, was passed down through the Edelstein family. The house itself was a bit shabby through the years of disuse, but in otherwise good shape. It was a two-story house with at least two bedrooms and, from my understanding, before the family moved on they were planning on building a tower onto the house. From the looks of it, they finished the tower from the outside but I'm pretty sure it could still use a lot of work from the inside.

Letting another sigh escape, I walked back to my old jalopy of a car and got my bag out, throwing it over my shoulder. Reaching through the bars of the gate, I grabbed the key from inside the mailbox that was nailed to the stonewall connected to said gate. Walking pass the fountain and up the front porch stairs, I stopped in front of the door and peered in the huge stain glass window as I slipped the key in the lock. Windows would have to be cleaned. Good thing I was only renting this house out for the weekend. This place could be someone else's 'fixer upper'.

The lock made an eery clicking noise as I turned the key and opened the door, the hinges cringing loudly from either rust or the years of mistreatment. Walking in, I took a look around. To my left was a wrap around staircase, obviously leading to the second floor. There were a few vases and a pretty huge grandfather clock sitting underneath the landing of the stairs. Ahead of me was a small sitting room with a door, probably leading to what I suspect to be the dinning room. Making almost a full three-sixty, I was met with the small living room. There was a fireplace in front of the light brown coffee table. The coffee table itself had a few books on top of it and a...used coffee cup? Odd.. The coffee table was surrounded by a couch and two sitting chairs that were covered with ivory colored fabric, printed with faded red roses. A beautiful black piano sat behind the couch. The only downside to this beautiful house was the fact that everything was covered in at least three inches of dust.

Turning around and making my way to the small sitting area that held two chairs (that of which I laid my bag on) covered in a red and light gold fabric, I noticed a small rotary phone sitting on a table near a lamp that sat beside a couch covered in the same fabric as the two chairs. At least there was a phone, I was supposed to call the real estate agent about how well I was settling in later on. But, before that, I wanted to explore a bit more. Walking through the door there, I came across what I suspected, the dinning room. Not much here, just a huge table that sat about ten people. A huge mirror sat above a small dresser that probably held silverware and napkins. A huge china cabinet sat on the other end of the room, obviously holding old plates and cups. Said china cabinet sat in between two other doors, one of which could possibly lead to the kitchen but the other was a mystery. I walked over to a smaller cabinet that was a bit taller than the china cabinet and opened it, eyes widening at the amount of booze that still lay hidden inside. Most of it was very old and very expensive wine, some scotch, a bit of vodka. To bad it was all old and covered in dust, I wouldn't have minded sampling some of it.

Below the shelf full of alcohol sat a lonely stack of slightly over used dishware. Obviously used for lesser valued occasions like a normal dinner and breakfast. Shrugging, I closed the doors and made my way to one of doors beside the china cabinet and opened it up. As I expected, I was met with the site of a rather bland kitchen. The walls were a dingy brown color and the stove was an ancient, beat up, oil powered stove, one of which I haven't seen since I was a little boy. A small wooden table that had about four chairs surrounding it sat in the middle of the room. To my right sat a series of mounted shelves that held old coffee and tea tubs from years passed, as well as a few spices that seemed to be a bit dried up. I walked over to the fridge and opened it, coughing at the smell and instantly covering my nose. It was covered in mold and old, spoiled food. A carton of spoiled milk lay forgotten near the back as a plate of chicken lay wasting away in a plate beside it. Old fruit and bread sat covered in inches of mold as flies swarmed around them. I closed it quickly, not willing to let the smell roll around the room much longer. Seems I'll be eating out quite a bit this weekend.

I turned and walked for the door that sat beside the table and opened it. Gulping a bit, I figured that it wouldn't be safe to wander alone into the dark basement and closed the door almost instantly. Though I pride myself in my books that were mostly of the horror genre, I wasn't a huge fan of dark desolate places. Quite odd, I realized that but that was just me. And a dark basement was an obvious no for me. I made my way back to the dinning room and went across the china cabinet and into the door there. It was a rather cold and grey hallway that held two doors, a few vases at the dead end, and another staircase at the other end. Not wanting to venture upstairs just yet, I opened the door closest to me and found it was a very small bedroom. So, there were three bedrooms? The room was covered in well done paintings with the initials "F.V" in the corner of them all. This must have been a maid's room, from my understanding the family had one before they all left. Deciding to leave this room alone, I shut the door and walked down the hall for the other. Opening it and looking around, I grimaced at the mess that still lay here. This was obviously the maid's bathroom. A used towel hung from a rack near the tub, slightly stiff from where it had dried there and it stunk of mildew. The tub had old water in it with a line and some photos pined to said wire hanging above it. The maid must have used this room as a make-shift dark room for developing photos. I assume she, or he, took the photos to capture what was happening at the time and then painting them out later on.

The first photo was a normal one of the house from the outside. The second was of a chipmunk. The next two were of the woods that surrounded the house. The last one was the one that caught most of my attention. Leaning closer to get a better look, I squinted my eyes. The photo itself was old-style black and white, it seemed to have been taken in the living room. A man with what I assume to either be dark brown or maybe black? hair sat at the piano, scowling slightly at the camera. A woman sat behind him with her hands clasped together in front of her, sporting a rather caring smile. They were both wearing Victorian style clothing, so the picture itself must have been quite old. These two had to be the house's last occupants, the maid obviously being the one taking said photo. I straightened and left the bathroom, closing the door with a small click.

Next up, the second floor.

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**I do believe I'll keep this in first person. My girlfriend said it sounded pretty good in first person, so I'll try to keep it this good! I'll be writing more than just the first chapter today, I'm wanting to get this out there and maybe even close to half way to the middle of the story. Oh, and to help everyone out, I'm writing out a characters list of who's in it thus far. I'm leaving out any characters that could possibly give out spoilers!**

**Anyway, as I write the next chapter, leave a review! Tell me what you think! Should I continue this, scrap this, is it bad or is it good or is it just plain weird and shouldn't be continued at all by anyone...you know, all that good stuff! Reviews make me happy!**

**Character List:**

**Roderich Edelstein (James T. Blackwood): An eccentric gentleman, Mr. Edelstein had always been a prominent figure in Rothbury, his hometown since his childhood, being one of the most successful construction engineers in the region.**

**Elisaveta Edelstein (Catherine Lydia Blackwood): Roderich Edelstein's enigmatic wife, an English teacher at a local school in Rothbury.**

**Feliciano Vargas (Eva Mariani): Mr. Vargas, an Italian immigrant and aspiring professional painter, was the Edelstein family's maid for several years. (No lie, this is an actual character. I laughed so hard when I found her!)**

**Arthur Kirkland (Michael Arthate): Arthur is an up-and-coming writer. Sales of his acclaimed first novel, Vanishing Town, left him with enough wealth to rent out a Victorian style mansion, a long-time dream of his.**

**More characters to come, don't worry!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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I walked to the end of the grey hallway and went up the stairs there. I was a bit taken aback by the painting that was nailed to the wall at the top of the staircase, was that a demon eating a baby? Nevertheless, I ignored it and walked passed it. I noticed a door near the stairs that was slightly ajar, peering inside from my place I recognized what appeared to be a toilet and decided that I needn't see another bathroom unless I have to use it and went to my right and walked down the hallway. All of the paintings were weird, rather gothic and creepy. A few of them being about slavery, I do believe. One in particular that I would have rather taken down was of a boy standing in front of a window with a life-sized doll of a girl. The window had child-like hands reaching out as if they were attempting to grab at the boy and it appeared that the doll was holding a battery. Was it nailed TO the wall? Normally you would put a nail IN the wall and hang the photo or painting, not nail it to the wall... Wish I could take it down...

Shuddering, I walked past it to a set of double doors. Upon opening them, I was met with a bright golden room covered wall-to-wall in African relics and masks. The real estate agent told me the previous owner, Roderich, went to Africa a few months before they left, but this was a lot! He had everything in this room. A necklace that had a lion's tooth attached to the golden chain, vases, pots, plates. I walked to the masks and looked them over. Golden plates with writing were nailed to the bottom of the case underneath them, explaining what ritual they were used for. I went down the line slowly, reading each one before studying the mask, until I made it to the last stand. The mask was gone. So was the platelet that explained the ritual. Where could it have gone?

Either way, I stood and left the room, getting a rather odd feeling after noticing that particular mask was missing. I shook it off and turned around, opening the door that was across from the 'African Shrine'. It was obviously the master bedroom, the bed being a huge four-post canopy style bed with ivory and gold blankets and pillows. It looks as if it were more for a woman than for a man, but I wouldn't have felt comfortable staying in this room, not after everything I'd just seen. It was as if the family still lived here.

I let the door close and walked to the door near the landing of the wrap around staircase that led to the front of the house and opened it. I was met with blue. A lot of blue. The wallpaper in this room was a striking dark blue with slight swirls of lighter teal, with greyish paneling going halfway up the wall. The floors themselves were a grey, almost blue, color as well. The bed being done in the same fashion. I'm not a huge fan of blue, especial a room literally covered in blue, but I guess this room would do. I walked in and sat on the bed, testing out the softness as I looked at the pictures on the fireplace mantle. Something black caught my attention and I looked down towards the floor near the bed. A doctor's bag? So, the last occupant of this room was a doctor? Probably best not to touch it...

As I was about to lay down, I heard the doorbell ring loudly a few times. Sighing, I made my way out of the room and down the stairs, opening the front door.

"Hello, Francis. Get worried because I didn't call you right away?"

Francis, the man who let me rent this house and who has been my 'friend' since college gave me a rather sheepish grin, "Slightly, I suppose you could say. This place _is_ located in the middle of the woods, anything could happen!"

"Sure," I deadpanned, but moved aside anyhow, "Come in then, I guess."

The taller blonde walked in, taking a quick look around before making his way to the sitting area that held the phone. He picked it up and placed the receiver to his ear before sighing and dropping it back down. I eyed him for a bit as he walked over to the light switch and flicked it upwards, testing it out. When nothing happened, he groaned before turning to me.

"I'll have to call the electrician when I get back to the office. Seems the imbécile didn't do his job," he muttered as he walked past me to the door, "Once I have him fix anything, give me a call alright? For anything, such as maybe spending a ni-"

"Get out, you sodding frog!" cutting him off, I pushed the man out of the open doorway and shut the door in his face, rolling my eyes at his muffled complaints.

Honestly, the nerve of that man! Once he left I'd have to go out to my car and get my typewriter so I could start working later. So now though, I wanted to check out that library!

Walking through the living room and into the door that sat next to the fireplace, I smiled at the warm feeling of the library. It wasn't as impressive as I hoped, but any books are better than none! Looking around, I found a huge globe sitting in one end of the room. At the other end was a small sitting area with a table and chairs that were a light gold color to match the paint of the walls, which were a goldish yellow tint. I walked to the desk that sat near the bookcases and sat down in the chair, turning it to face the desk. I looked at the books and noticed one with the words 'journal' etched on the side. Curiosity getting the better of me, I picked it up and turned to the first page. The handwriting was extremely neat and elegant for something that was only meant for the owner's eyes. And yet, here I was, reading said journal and prying into the life of someone I didn't know.

I let out a sigh and figured that if it were left behind, it wasn't worth much to the owner and reading it wouldn't be all that bad. The first few pages were talking about how he had just arrived in Africa to build a bridge with his team and about how he missed his wife, who I learned was named Elizaveta. She was four months pregnant at the time and he explained how much he hated leaving her alone in a huge house with just their maid, Feliciano, and their doctor as her only company. It seems she was having trouble with the pregnancy and the doctor moved in to watch her more closely. But on the other hand, he expressed how he was in love with the scenery and the tribes in Africa. He loved the culture there and had already shipped many artifacts back home in several crates. That of which he was sure his wife would absolutely love. Looking at that African Shrine upstairs, I could honestly say I was pretty sure she thought differently. I know I did.

After skimming through a few pages talking about how he was going to teach their son how to play piano like a true man, I stopped when he started talking about a certain African village. The weird name alone caught my attention. He explained how a few nights, some villagers would come and watch them for hours on end barely even blinking. They'd disappear randomly later on in the night without anyone knowing and the owner of said journal, who I learned was named Roderich, expressed how bizarre it was. Yet, he was also very interested in them. The next few entries talked about how he asked a local historian about the tribes surrounding their campsite, but it only sparked his want to meet them even more.

Eventually he convinced a few of his team members to help him find the tribe the night after that and what I read made me literally sick. Apparently they had run into a few members of the tribe who had willingly led them to the village. There, Roderich and his team witnessed a strange ritual that I'm pretty sure he didn't particularly enjoy. In the middle of the village was a large wooden podium, a few villagers sat a strange mask that Roderich expressed he wanted badly for his collection. Soon, the tribe members started to dance around the mask and singing songs. It all stopped when one tribe member left the circle to go up to the mask. Everyone stilled, watching his movements as he got closer and closer.

Roderich explained how the boy lifted his hand up, about to touch the mask and the whole tribe ran for him. As they were screaming and yelling at him, he was tackled to the ground by the mob. They ripped at his flesh, breaking bones and tearing off skin all at once. Roderich had said he'd never seen a more gruesome sight in his life but the boy didn't even flinch. As quickly as it all started, one by one the tribe members got up and left the boy in a bloody mess on the ground. Soon, they all left the village, leaving the boy's body there. After one of his team members walked over and picked up the mask, they left the village and Roderich sent said mask back home to Elizaveta so her to put up in his collection. Could this be the missing mask?

I skimmed through the other pages in the book, the rest of it being about the pregnancy and about how their doctor, Vash Zwingli, wasn't sure if the child would make it or not but he'd try all he could. After that, nothing else was written. I closed the book quickly and sat it back where I found it on the desk. Why would he go out of his way to get a mask such as that? The ritual in itself was entirely sadistic, what could posses him to make him think shipping a mask like that back home to his pregnant wife was alright? I shook my head and got up, wanting to leave this room as quickly as I possibly could. The room didn't feel as safe as it had before.

Walking out and back into the living room, I let out a small huff of air and plopped onto the couch there. Looking down at the coffee table, I noticed another journal. Maybe this one would be slightly less creepy. I picked it up and flipped to the first page. That same elegant handwriting that belonged to Roderich adorned the pages once again. How many journals did this man keep?

The first page talked about how he had returned from Africa a few days ago and that he was happy about hearing the good news about his wife and baby. Apparently her health had taken a turn for the better and Vash told him the baby should be completely fine. After a few pages where he talked about setting up the child's room came something I wasn't expecting at all. He said they had lost the child to mercury poisoning and he blamed Vash almost instantly. Later on after the maid's pet cat had died out of no where, Roderich expressed how much he was starting to hate the mask. None of this was happening until that mask entered the house and he was going to get rid of it.

Gradually, his writing had become less and less elegant. It was hard to imagine that this was still him. I was writing in broken sentences, they were short and got to the point quickly and he didn't even fool with explaining how things were. He said he got rid of the mask but it came back. Soon, he had lost track of his days and Vash was trying to put him on some kind of medicine that would 'help him relax'. He instantly accused him of trying to poison him so he could have Elizaveta to himself. After a few more insane ramblings came a rather odd one liner.

_'Whatever today is..._

_I did it. I had to. I had to calm the spirit of that wretched mask. Eliza, love, please forgive me.'_

And that was all. That was Roderich's last entry. It would be an understatement if I had said I was curious about what had happened. Obviously it was something bad and according to Roderich, it was all centered around the mask. If it had come back, where did Roderich put it?

I closed the book and sat it back down on the coffee table. Looking up at the clock, I decided that now would be as good a time as any to start writing.

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**Whew, do you know how hard it was to remember what happened in those journals while also making it up with my own words? Jesus! Anyway, I hope everyone likes insane Roderich! I tried to make this chapter a bit lighthearted seeing as the rest of it's going to be kind of...well, not.**

**Either way, review me! I love reviews, they make me inspired to write more!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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After writing for a few hours to attempt to create some type of ending, I gave up and went outside to clear my head. I stood on the porch, looking around the front yard of the house. Nothing special unless you count the old fountain and the garage near the entrance. Francis said it was locked and he didn't have the key so, it wasn't as if I could get in there. Looking around a bit more, I noticed a small dirt path that led around the house before cutting off into two smaller paths. Curiosity piqued, I walked down the stairs and went down the path, choosing to go right for now. I walked through the brush and trees before I stopped in front of a huge greenhouse.

Back at my old home I had quite the small garden myself, but a greenhouse this big was quite impressive! It was as if he intended it to be a second house! The windows were dirty and you couldn't exactly see through them, so to get a better look I decided to go inside. The only plants that were dead, surprisingly, were a few rose bushes near the front door, one of which I had knocked over by accident from forcing the rusty door open. Everything else, including the big oak tree in the middle of the greenhouse were still very much alive. Odd, seeing as the plants in the house were dead. How could these not be?

I walked around, looking at the random plants that were settled in pots around the oak tree. I wonder who this was built for, Roderich or Elizaveta? They both seemed the type to like things like this and it was a shame that they left everything in this way. If they had just moved, why leave their possessions behind? Perhaps I could find a way to contact them later. I left the greenhouse after a few more minutes of admiring the other plants and walked back down the path. Once I was back at the house, I crossed through the yard to get to the second path that went around towards the back of the house. But something felt different about this half of the yard. As if someone had been digging here. It was a lot softer compared to the rest of the ground.

Hoping that it was just Roderich or a gardener doing yard work instead of some animal, I kept going, making my way down the path. This path led to the back of the house where the backdoor to the kitchen was. Turning around laid a path that went between two big trees. Squinting, I could see a small...church? in the background with what appeared to be a mausoleum beside it. Rather not wanting to venture there just yet, I made my way to the front of the house again. Some movement caught my eye and I looked towards to gate to see...

My electrician driving off...

I stood there, mouth agape, as the truck vanished into the fog. The sodding git just drove off, knowing I was here without power! I stalked to the gate hoping I could start my car and maybe chase after him when I noticed something white sticking out of the mailbox. Blinking, I walked to it and pulled it out. It was a note and upon opening it I discovered it was directions on how to start the power by myself. And the breaker box was in the basement...

I looked up at the sky, deciding it was getting to late to wander down into the basement alone and went back inside and up to my room. I lit a few candles that sat near the bed and got undressed, putting on a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. Maybe a good night's sleep could prepare me for tomorrow morning. Hopefully I didn't get electrocuted.

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_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

I was awoken abruptly by a strange scratching noise that seemed to vibrate around the room. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking away the blurriness as I looked around. The scratching was getting louder and louder with each passing second and I silently hoped it wasn't a mouse or rat. Those things were hard to get rid of. I sat up, listening closely to see where the scratching was coming from. Leaning closer to the fireplace that was there, I noticed it got louder in that direction. Strange...

I got up and went out the bedroom door, slowly going down the stairs. The house had a more sinister feeling at night and it was something enjoyable I was doing, wandering around at night in this huge house. Nevertheless, I kept going. The scratching got louder and louder as I got closer to the living room. As I stood near the fireplace again, it felt as if it were coming from underneath me...

_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

Don't tell me it's coming from the basement...

Sighing and willing myself to muster up the courage, I walked through the sitting area, passing through the dinning room, and went into the kitchen. I gulped and made my way for the basement door, about to open it when a thought occurred to me. If the house was this dark, the basement would be even darker! Hoping I could catch the vermin making the scratching noise in time, I ran back upstairs and grabbed my flashlight that I had packed. Bloody good thing I thought ahead! I made my way back to the kitchen and opened the door. I was met with the dark, dusty, ominous stairs of the basement. They led into utter darkness, the darkness I wasn't to keen on walking into. But, I had to.

Taking a calming breath, I willed myself to go down each and every step at a slow pace. The scratching got louder and faster as I neared the huge furnace that was mounted to the wall. The other three walls were covered in posters from times past, circus ads, wanted ads, even an old Rosie the Riveter poster. But now wasn't the time to admire the wall decor. I walked to the furnace and noticed the scratching coming from there. Against my usually better judgement, I opened it and peered inside. The wall that had the furnace mounted on it had what appeared to be a small window that led into further darkness. The scratching had stopped as if whatever was doing it had heard me and didn't want to be caught.

I glared a bit and crawled in further, hoping I could catch the little noise maker as I looked in through the window there. Soon, a large shadow moved in front of the window and walked away and it wasn't the shadow of a mouse or a rat. No, that shadow belonged to a person! I could make out the outline of their face and shoulders as they walked away from the window as if they weren't doing anything at all! I backed out of the furnace quickly, dropping my flashlight and running back up the stairs, slamming the door behind me. I don't know how, but somehow I had made it back up to my room and back into bed. I barely remembered going up the staircase, let alone getting into bed! But that didn't matter, as long as I was no longer in the basement...

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I awoke with a start the next morning with the blankets pooled around my waist. Groaning, I sat up slowly and gave a slight yawn. That dream last night was rather odd and it made me resent the basement even more. Though, I knew I had to go down there today to get power back to this house. After I did that, I was going to take another look around the house. I still had that tower and the attic to explore, after all!

After I got dressed and put my dirty clothes on the smaller desk in the corner, I walked over to my suitcase. The dream had made me remember I had brought my flashlight with me and if I were to somehow restore power to the house, I'd need it. Shuffling through the clothes in my bag, I furrowed my brows in confusion. My flashlight was nowhere to be found. But I knew I had packed it! So, where was it?!

Letting out a confused sigh, I decided that the daylight could assist me as long as I left the basement door open. So, I made the small journey to the kitchen, propping open the basement door with one of the chairs that sat at the wooden table. Walking down slowly, I took a glance at the posters. Even though I had never been down here, my dream was oddly accurate! Every poster I saw was in my dream and not a one led me wrong! Once I got to the bottom, I froze in my tracks and paled. There sat my flashlight near the opened door of the furnace.

Was it not a dream after all...?

Had I really ventured down here in the middle of the night by myself...?

Then that shadow was...

Deciding it best not to question things right now, I quickly grabbed the flashlight and shut the door. I walked over to the breaker box and opened it, flipping the switches the electrician had indicated should be on before hitting the power button. The light flickered in the basement before it came on. Though it kept flickering, I figured that meant that this was as good as it would get. I peered over towards the furnace, wondering if it would be a good idea to check it out again. That shadow couldn't have been real, right? Just a figment of my overactive imagination. I mean, after all I am a horror novelist! An overactive imagination came with the job description!

As I slowly walked towards the furnace and lifted my hand up to open the door, I heard a sliding sound and a loud bang come from upstairs, causing me to jump nearly five feet in the air. I whirled around and saw that the basement door had somehow pushed the chair out-of-the-way and closed. Everything is bloody scaring me today... Leaving the furnace to it's own thing, I walked back up the stairs and opened the door, noticing the chair had been moved back to it's place at the wooden table. Obviously that wasn't possible if the door had just slid it out-of-the-way. What was going on here?

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**Next up, the plot will thicken reasonably! I just had to get something updated before we left to go visit some of my girlfriend's family today. I hope everyone enjoys this! I'm having fun writing it and getting to kind of "re-live" an old game I use to love! I hope I can come home to a bunch of awesome reviews from you awesome people! That would make my day!**

**A lot of love to everyone!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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Now that the power was restored, I went room to room and turned on every single light. At least in the rooms I was using. I walked back up to the second floor and went down the hall towards the bathroom I had seen earlier. Once there, I turned to the right and looked up the slightly dark staircase that led to the tower and the attic. I hadn't been up there yet and I was wanting to explore all I could about this house. With it being so old, there was so much history to be found here and I was pretty sure I could morph some of it and put it in my book!

Braving the darkness, I walked up the stairs and turned on the hanging bulb so I could see. I was right when I said the tower needed work. They had tools and uncut wood still sitting up here. Roderich must have still been working on it before they had left. Either way, I walked over to a smaller set of stairs that was meant for the attic and walked in. I was met with a room full of old mirrors, baby carriages, a rocking horse (creepy rocking horse), a trunk full of old clothing (which were mostly dresses, it had to belong to Elizaveta), and a stack of old newspapers. As I glanced at them, I had to take a second look. The title caught my attention almost instantly.

_**"Mr. Edelstein, Number One Suspect in Wife's Murder."**_

...Murder? Elizaveta was murdered? Why had Francis not told me about this? Weren't real estate agents suppose to know everything about the houses they sold?! I crouched down in front of the newspaper and picked it up, unfolding it carefully. For something so old it was in fairly good condition. Luckily the words weren't faded and I'd be able to read all I could.

_"Elizaveta Edelstein, age 24, went missing last week. After she failed to come into work for the third day in a row, a fellow teacher called the local police to file a missing persons report. _

_Her husband, Roderich Edelstein, told police earlier in the week that she had went to visit family and that he didn't feel the need to talk to any police officers about her 'sudden disappearance'. Their maid, however, told a different story. _

_Feliciano Vargas, age 18, had been working for the Edelsteins for some time now. He said that he trusted them, especially young Elizaveta, with his life. He had explained that he witnessed Mr. Edelstein burying someone in the back yard a few nights prior to the missing persons report and took a picture, which we have for evidence, but never confronted anyone about it._

_Their family doctor, Vash Zwingli, had moved in with them when Elizaveta was pregnant with their first son. He said that she had some trouble which resulted in the loss of their child. Mr. Zwingli had told the police that Mr. Edelstein took it pretty hard and refused to take medicine that Zwingli had suggested he take. _

_'I never thought it would come to something like this,' Zwingli told reporters a few days before Mr. Edelstein was arrested and sent to trial, 'They put themselves off as the greatest couple in the world. In hindsight, I probably should have seen it coming. Knew Roderich was a nutcase.'_

_Mr. Vargas told police that he didn't want to be put on the stand against Mr. Edelstein, even if he thought that his former employer had something to do with it. _

_Ludwig Beilschmidt, local Police Chief and head investigator of the case, told reporters that her body has yet to be found and Mr. Edelstein refuses to acknowledge that he's the only suspect in the case and won't tell police where he's buried her. _

_The case is still on going." _

I stared at the newspaper blankly for what seemed like hours. Roderich killed Elizaveta? Why? How? And more importantly, was that soft patch of dirt...her...grave...? Had I just stepped on her grave?! Now that the power was back, I'd have to call Francis and ask him about this. He should have told me, if I'm renting the bloody house I have a right to know these things! I placed the newspaper back in it's original spot and got up, dusting the back of my pants off and rushing downstairs to the phone. I dialed Francis as quickly as I possibly could and sat down on the couch near the phone. Why was he taking so bloody long to answer?

"Oui..?"

"Francis, I'm pissed at you..."

"When is that anything special?"

"I'm serious! How come you never bloody told me about the murder?"

There was a silence on the phone before Francis spoke up again, "Murder? H-how'd you-"

"I found old newspapers in the attic, Francis."

The Frenchman let out a sigh before continuing, "Why do you have to be so nosey? Maybe they were in the attic for a reason."

"It's my bloody house! I can look around if I want!"

"Well," came his sleep ridden voice, "I can't tell you anything about it. No one really told me the details, they just told me it happened."

I let my own sigh escape as I rubbed my head a bit. This was really confusing. I wish I knew the details of said murder, I was really wanting to know why and how it happened.

"If you want, I could give you the old police chief's phone number. After the case went cold, he retired and I think he still lives here."

"That would be great, actually."

"Alright, I'll call you back once I find it. In the meantime, Arthur, stop snooping. You're an author, not a private investigator."

And with that, he hung up. Francis was such an arse. Like I said, it's my bloody house and if I want to snoop, I'll snoop! I sat the phone back down and stood up. The house felt really odd now, as if I weren't the only one in it. Maybe I could look around Feliciano's old room? He'd obviously have clues and for some reason, I don't think he'd have just one copy of that picture.

Leaving the sitting room, I walked through the dinning room and into that cold grey hallway again. I went through the door that led to Feliciano's old room and closed it behind me. Near the door sat a full body length sized mirror that was turned toward the bed. The bed was a rusty brass four-post bed. The mattress was bare and it was stained heavily with a copper-colored spot in the middle of it. On the floor in front of the bed sat a tan cloth rug, a small shabby and wooden bedside table sat in between the mirror and the bed. At the end of the bed sat a rather large dresser with paintings and pictures adorning the top. A tiny window sat beside said dresser and near the window stood a small desk and chair. Other than the furniture, there wasn't anything special about this room except for the fact that Feliciano had to have hidden something in here and I'll be damned if I don't find it!

I gently sat on the bed and opened the bedside table's drawer. There was a book on painting and a few photographs of what I assumed where his family members. After shuffling the pictures around I noticed Feliciano's journal. Bingo. I picked it up and flipped to the first page. Not much, talking about how he couldn't wait to see his family again and working for the Edelsteins wasn't as bad as everyone had said it would be. A few pages later, the Italian's cooing over having a baby in the house and how he'd teach it how to cook properly and how to paint. The next few entries were about Elizaveta's health and how he didn't know what to do to help her. He was afraid something bad was going to happen to her and that she had been bed ridden for a while. I skimmed through the random entries about babies and...pasta..until I found something interesting. Feliciano was talking about how he hated that 'creepy mask'. A few days were skipped until he started talking about Roderich's return home and Vash's news on her health. From what Roderich said in his last journal, I already knew she was feeling better by then.

The next entry, however, was slightly weirder. Feliciano started talking about how Roderich would mumble to himself about how the mask was making him do things he didn't want to do. From what Feliciano heard from Roderich's ramblings, the mask wanted another sacrifice and if Roderich didn't help the mask would get it by itself. Soon, Roderich had Feliciano believing in it somewhat. He claimed that the mask must have taken their child and that drove Roderich farther over the edge. Feliciano and Elizaveta could no longer hold decent conversations with Roderich without him starting up about the mask and how he needed ways of getting rid of it. I skimmed through some entries again until I saw a rather odd-looking one.

_'Date: No time._

_I knew something was wrong! I should have gone back to Italy when I had the chance! Roderich was outside my window digging a hole in the ground and, though I'm not entirely sure, I believe Elizaveta was laying on the ground next to him. I took a picture and I think he saw the flash from the camera, so I hid it. I'm not sure if he's coming inside or not, all I know is he's gone and the hole is covered. _

_I hope nothing happened.'_

And that was his last entry. I need that picture!

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**Alright! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, I had to go and watch a bunch of let's plays on Scratches so I could get all the information accurate because it's been years since I played it myself and I don't own the game any more (sadly -cryface-).**

**So, if you like what you read then you know what to do you lovely people!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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With the thoughts of the murder still fresh in my mind, I let my fingers fly across the keys of my typewriter as I subconsciously wrote the next few chapter. Luckily I was close to finishing the book so I could explore more. Francis had called back a few minutes ago and gave me the number to the old Police Chief, Ludwig. I told him I was extending my stay here to Tuesday. There was just to many clues the police didn't find that I couldn't just abandon here. Francis agreed, though I'm pretty sure he knew exactly what it was I was actually doing. As I started to type on a clean sheet of paper, my typewriter jammed and ripped the page that I had started to type on. I sighed and took the paper out, throwing it in the waste basket beside the desk. A darker shaded crumpled ball that was already sitting in the bottom of the waste basket caught my attention. I pulled it out and unballed it, skimming over it. This looks like something the doctor had written when he owned this room!

_'Why can I not concentrate? Crumpling pages like this... I'm getting worse... The whispering is getting louder as well. _

_Is Roderich not the only one effected by this? We've blocked the doorway to his African collection, but I can still hear them in my dreams. I had promised him that I would help him get rid of it, but tearing that thing apart would make me force myself to believe in it's otherworldly nature. I cannot do that. I'm a doctor, for Christ sake! _

_Elizaveta thinks I can give Roderich some form of medicine and he'd be cured, but I don't believe I can help him now. This is out of my hands and if I don't find someway to get us out of here, I fear something terrible is going to happen. I cannot trust Roderich alone any more. He's done to many weird things when he's by himself and now I've got to watch him as if I'm babysitting a five-year old._

_I probably should have stayed in Switzerland with my sister where I belong instead of moving to London at the beck and call of an old friend. I did it for Elizaveta's sake. After hearing her complications during her first month of pregnancy, I couldn't just leave them here in the middle of the woods. Their local doctor was to far away and, honestly, I felt sorry for the poor bastard. He'd never had a child and this would be his first._

_Hopefully it goes well. She's in her last month and I believe if Roderich sees his child, it'll help his mentality a bit._

_That mask has to go.' _

This couldn't be the only thing he's written! Maybe I could find a diary or a journal or so-

I looked over toward the bed where the doctor bag lay silently on the floor. I got up, leaving my work at the desk, and sat on the bed. Lifting the bag up onto my lap, I unzipped it gently and opened it up. I shuffled through the doctor supplies, finding odd notes about health care and how to keep from getting sick, until I came across a small leather-bound book. There we go! I pulled it out and opened it up, skimming through the first entry. Most of it was talking about his sister he left back in Switzerland due to her unwillingness to move. He would send her money from time to time to help pay for bills, though he indicated it wasn't a lot. He also talked about how Roderich was a hard man to get along with unless you were willing to put yourself below him. Soon, after skimming through a few more doctor notes on Elizaveta's health, I came across one about the mask.

_'Roderich sent another crate full of 'African art' back home. Needless to say, Elizaveta was furious. She's never particularly liked the African collection Roderich had started and his obsession with such is getting a bit out of hand, if I do say so myself. _

_She called me down early this morning and asked me to 'put the damn thing where it belonged'. Apparently she didn't want anything to do with it and she wasn't going to let Fecliciano touch such a thing either. I peered into the crate to see what it was she was talking about and noticed a mask sitting by itself in the crate. The rest of the artifacts Roderich sent were already out of the box and Feliciano had taken them up to the collection room and this was what was left. _

_The mask had a slightly elongated face and was colored with mostly red, a little bit of blue and gold at the top of it where the horns were. Knowing Roderich would rather have it in the case than in the crate, I begrudgedly picked it up and put it where it was meant to be._

_It did give me an odd feeling though.'_

So Vash had put the mask in the case? That empty spot I saw yesterday must have been where it was meant to be. So then, where was it now? Had Vash and Roderich succeeded in destroying it? But Roderich had said it returned. So it must be hidden somewhere!

I skimmed through a few more entries talking about his family and his job and about how he wished he could go visit his sister. Nothing of value there, his sister wasn't what I was looking for at this moment. After a few more talking about Elizaveta's health making a full three-sixty and she seemed to be doing a lot better now, I came across an entry titled 'It was a boy'.

_'Elizaveta entered labor early Saturday morning. Her contractions were about four to five minutes apart, but she was taking it rather well. Fecliciano kept her hydrated during the day while Roderich and I attempted to make her more comfortable. Around midnight that night, the baby was born. It was a boy._

_I say 'was' because he didn't survive. The baby was a stillborn, somehow coming into contact with mercury. Elizaveta, however, was completely fine physically. Roderich on the other hand, took it pretty hard. Though he didn't say much, I could see it in his eyes._

_They named the child William and handed him off to me to dispose of.'_

_'Today I helped Roderich block off the child's room. He couldn't bare to look at it any longer, so we used some extra bricks from the construction of the outside of the tower and some cement to cover the doorway. _

_His ramblings about the mask are getting worse. Me and Elizaveta have been talking and she's been asking about looking into asylums if this doesn't let up. I assured her that I could make him better and not to jump to conclusions so fast but, honestly, I'm not sure what I can do for him.'_

_'I knew I should have went back to Switzerland when the window opened. I was too afraid to leave Elizaveta here alone with him though. _

_He's not faring any better. He's been asking me of ways on how to kill a person without leaving much evidence behind and I told him that if he keeps talking like that I'd have no other choice but to refer him to a mental institute. He took the threat lightheartedly and laughed it off, as per usual._

_Seems I won't be going back home anytime soon.'_

_'I'm going insane._

_Either Roderich's ramblings have gotten to me or he's right. I've been hearing voices. So many voices. Telling me what to do, how to think. We've blocked off his African collection room, but I'm starting to hear them in my sleep now. Nothing will stop them!_

_I have to get rid of it..._

_This has to stop...'_

And that was his last entry. I sighed and flipped through the last few pages to see if he had any letters stuck in between the blank pages. No such luck. Though at the back of the book I found a name and a phone number! Maybe this could help? Wonder who it was...

I got up and took the book with me downstairs to the sitting room where the phone was. I sat down and picked it up, dialing the number there. Hopefully it was someone particularly close to him that would have answers about what happened to him or about his whereabouts. Hell, maybe the man himself would be the one to answer the phone!

"Grüezi?" came a very light voice as the phone was picked up.

I cleared my throat before speaking, "Yes, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't take into account that you may not speak English-"

"Oh, I do. My brother had taught me!" she explained happily.

"Oh, that's brilliant! Well, I've rented out a house recently and some possessions of the former inhabitants are still here and I found a book with your name and number in it. So, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me the whereabouts of a 'Vash Zwingli'?"

The other end of the phone went silent for a few minutes. I was about to ask if the girl were still there before she finally spoke up, "Vash..? Th-that's my brother! He went missing years ago... How did you find his book?"

Missing? "In his doctor bag in my room."

"In your- You haven't rented out the old Edelstein mansion have you?!"

"I have-"

"I'm sorry, I can't speak with you anymore. I must go."

And with that, the line went dead. So, Lily was his sister then? And what did she mean by 'missing', where could he have gone?

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**So much trouble writing this chapter! Holy hell! Anyway, next chapter we'll talk to Ludwig! Maybe even call poor old Lily again and bug her to death! I hope everyone enjoyed!**

**Reviews make me smile!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Scratches.**

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After I had hung up with Lily, I stared at the phone for a while. The conversation was strange, to say the least. What did she mean by missing? Have I missed a clue or something? Did Vash do something to aid Roderich in the death of Elizaveta? Through his notes, he did seem a bit trouble obviously. But, to assist in a murder?

I let out a sigh as I sat the small journal down on the table next to the phone. Maybe the old Police Chief would answer today? He would be my only hope. And after that I could recheck Feliciano's room and see if there was anything that I had missed. I picked up the phone and dialed the number Francis had given me.

"Yes?" came the grumpy answer from a heavily German accented voice.

"Uhm, yes. Sorry to have bothered you today but I was wondering if maybe you could tell me more about the Edelstein Manor?"

The line went silent for a few minutes before the man answered again, "And why is it that you want to know that?"

"Well, I'm renting the place for the weekend and I've seen a few...abnormal things. So, I was wondering if maybe you could tell me more about this place?"

"Then I assume you found out about Mrs. Edelstein?"

"I have."

He sighed irritatedly, "What is it you would like to know then?"

"Well, anything that you found would be great and how the case went cold would be a lovely detail as well. And I'd like to know what happened to Roderich and Vash Zwingli."

"Vash Zwingli? Why him?" the man asked, clearly confused.

I laughed a little nervously, "Well, I found a few of his things as well and his sister said he went missing."

"Did he now? That figures."

"What do you mean?"

The other man let out a sigh, "He didn't particularly want to talk about how Roderich kind of...lost his sanity. He just kept saying it wasn't his fault and that he needn't be questioned. We left it alone after the tenth try."

"I see. So you don't know where he could be?"

"Honestly, I thought he was still living in the house."

I gulped a bit, going silent for a while, "Wh-why would he still be here..?"

"After Roderich was arrested and sent to jail the house went to him. With their only child being a still-born, there was no one else for the house to go to so Vash took it."

"Really? What of Elizaveta?"

"Well," the man huffed out, "We never could get Roderich to tell us where he buried her and Feliciano wouldn't tell either. All we knew was that it was around his bedroom window."

"Where's Feliciano?"

The line went silent again before the German spoke up, "Living with me."

I raised an eyebrow in mute shock, "Is that so? Are you two..?"

"I'd rather not answer that." he answered swiftly.

"Right. Sorry. So, what about Roderich?"

"We tried to get him to agree to going to the mental institute next door to the prison, but he refused. Claimed he wasn't crazy and that he knew why Elizaveta had died and that we had arrested the wrong man. Told us we should have taken that mask instead of him. He eventually commit suicide in his cell a few months after the first trial."

"Ah, I see. Tell me, would Feliciano have any clue where he would have hidden the copy of the picture that your team had taken for evidence?"

Silence again, "I don't know. He's done his best to forget what had happened in that house, but I could ask."

"Thank you. I'll go check anyway."

"Is that all you needed from me?"

I went silent as I thought for a moment, but decided taking another look around the house before raising more questions would be more suitable, "No. Thank you, you were a big help. Would it be alright if I contact you again?"

"Yes. But, next time, try to keep your questions a bit less personal?"

"Of course. Once again, I'm sorry."

"Mhm..." and with that, the line went dead.

I hung up as well and stood from my place at the phone. Taking another, more detailed look, around Feliciano's room couldn't hurt and if I come up with nothing I'm sure Ludwig could get an answer out of Feliciano if he truly is there. I walked into the dinning room and into the grey hallway, opening the door and entering Feliciano's old room. I looked around, silently wondering to myself where it was I should start. I hadn't really searched in here as well as I should have and had just settled with thumbing through an old journal. This time, I had to find that picture. I walked to the desk and sat down, opening and looking through the drawers there. I found nothing that didn't pertain to painting or photography and closed each of them with a grimace on my face. I looked at the top of the desk and found a few old sheets of paper there. Looking at the one on the top, I could faintly make out markings. Could that be writing? Grabbing the pencil that lay discarded beside the small stack, I rubbed across the paper quickly with the side of the exposed lead. Soon, a full note appeared. Sadly, it was written in Italian. Like bloody hell if I could read that but hopefully I knew someone who was close to someone else that could!

Getting up and leaving the note there until later, I walked to the dresser and started leafing through the drawers there. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary for Feliciano. Just books on painting, cooking and photography. Anything that had to do with art, this man owned. A few pictures of bridges and scenery were hidden in a few drawers and in one I found a fully functional camera with a few rolls of film. I wasn't entirely sure how to get those developed. Perhaps I could mail them to Ludwig and ask if Feliciano would be kind enough to do it? Clearly it couldn't have been so long that he forgot how, right? I closed the drawer and went to sit on the bed, but as I stepped on the floor one of the boards creaked strangely. It sounded off. Different from the other floorboards. I moved aside and kicked the rug out-of-the-way, stepping on a few random boards before finding the odd one. I got down on my knees and removed the first board before getting rid of two more. There, hidden away, was a small decorated box. I pulled it out carefully, blowing some of the dust off. It was painted with small animals and flowers, obviously done by Feliciano himself. I opened it, pulling out a stack of pictures that were dated on the back. A few were of his family, maybe some friends, random animals, and-

"Bloody hell, I found it.."

I stared wide-eyed for a while at the picture. Feliciano did indeed catch Roderich burying someone. In the picture, there was a small hole in the ground in front of Roderich as his back was facing the window. A body lay on the ground at his feet and, was that a knife handle? Shaking, I let out a breathe. I hadn't expected to find it so quickly and I most certainly didn't expect it to be as detailed as it was! I looked up at the lone window that sat sadly in the room. I get up with the picture in my hand and silently stalked towards it, shaking all the while. Placing the picture up in the air in eye sight, I cross examined the positions I could stand in while trying to figure out where exactly Roderich would have been standing. According to the trees in the background, Roderich was digging right in front of Feliciano's window. How could he be so careless? And how could the police not figure this out? Obviously Elizaveta was still there and they hadn't even attempted to look there? Or at least try to question Feliciano where he remembered Roderich had stood?

Gulping, I backed away from the window. Things were just piling up one after the other. I placed the picture back in the box and put the box back in the hole before replacing the boards and covering it up with the rug. Standing, I went to the desk and picked up the note before making my way back to the phone. I sat down and dialed a number, waiting for a reply.

"¿Hola?" came the Spanish voice of a long time...friend...from college.

"Hello, Antonio.."

"Arthur? You sound like shit, amigo. Something wrong?"

I laughed humorlessly, "You could say so. Are you still with that Italian?"

"Hell yeah I am!" Antonio laughed, "Why?"

"I'm renting a house and, I don't want to get into detail just yet but, I found a note written in Italian and I would really like it if he could translate it for me, please."

Antonio went silent for a while before answering, "Well, I could try to see if he would. Mail it to me and I'll ask him when it gets here! Alright?"

"Sure. Thanks."

"And, Arthur. I can tell something is wrong. Be careful with whatever the hell it is you're doing, alright?"

I sighed, "I'll try. Goodbye." and with that, I hung up.

After finding an envelope, I put the letter in it and addressed it to Antonio. I walked out of the house and put it in the mailbox and turned to go back inside. My eyes flickered over to the spot where the soft patch of soil was. That had to be Elizaveta's grave. Could I even attempt to dig her up? Just the mere thought of it made my stomach do flips. I wasn't sure if I could go through with it but, maybe it was needed. To figure everything out at least and tell Ludwig I know where she is. Maybe the case would be solved?

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**Not sure how long this chapter is, but I wanted to update before I give my girlfriend her computer back.**

**It took me a while, but I pretty much just went by memory for this chapter, haha! I was having a bit too much fun with Our Confusing History and almost forgot to update this! Thank God I remembered because I had been wanting to complete this chapter for a while. I was working on this chapter when my laptop broke and was so mad because I didn't get to finish it like I had wanted. It would have been out sooner, but life happened. Sorry, guys. Anyway! Hope everyone liked this chapter! More insane Roderich and maybe even insane Vash? :o How is that different than normal, right? xD  
**

**Just kidding.  
**

**Anyhow, I hope this chapter was enjoyable! Reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!  
**

**Love, ShuChan  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. **

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Walking over to the old shed near the entrance, I peered inside the barred windows. Dark was an understatement. 'Pitch black' wasn't right either. Glancing down at the lock and chain, I smiled to myself as a thought came to mind. Tools in the greenhouse! Couldn't they work to break the chain or the door handle? Either way, it was worth a shot! After making my way down the dirt path and into the greenhouse, I took a quick glance around. Being met with the same rosey smell as before was quite enlightening and how I wished I could stay longer, but I had a job to do.

Searching for hours through broken and rusted gardening tools, I came across a crowbar in rather god condition. Surprisingly enough, it was the only tool left in good condition. Had Roderich done it? In some feeble attempt to destroy what was left of his old life maybe?

Shrugging, I stood and left the enormous greenhouse and followed the dirt path back to the house. Walking back to the small wooden shed, I let out a tiny huff of air. Perhaps I should call Francis first? If he locked it then clearly no one was meant to be in it. Of course, it is my house now.

"Here goes nothing..."

Taking the sharp, curved eng of the crowbar, I pierced it through the crack where the metal of the handle was attached to the old, damp wood of the double-doors to the shed. Pulling with every ounce of strength I possessed, I held my breath firmly as I gripped the crowbar in a white knuckled embrace.

"This sodding thing has to-"

CRACK!

As the door handle popped off with a snap, sending wood chips propelling in every direction, I fell to the cobblestone ground. The chain clinked against the wood of the other door as it hung sadly from the only other door handle. The handle-less door opened slightly, allowing a tiny stream of light to pierce the darkness of the inside. I stood quickly and walked in, gasping at what I saw.

A black 1950's Ford sat dust-covered in the shed! I'd always wanted to own one and now here it sat, being mistreated in such a cold manner! After admiring the wonderful piece of history, I looked to the tool bench that sat not far from said automobile. Nothing more than mere tools for tending to the Ford and that's not what I came in to see. A small glimmer of light caught my attention and I looked towards the dark corner near the bench. Right beside the tool bench sat a lonely shovel, reflecting the tiny sliver od sunlight the fog and darkness had allowed in. Letting a rather nervous smile adorn my lips, I shakily picked up the heavy tool.

"God, forgive me for what I'm about to do..." I huffed out.

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**Uh oh, wonder what's going to happen! :O**

**Thanks for reading thus far, everyone! I hope this chapter was enjoyable! Reviews make me smile!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor Scratches. **

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Walking as slowly as physically possible, I made my way to the soft patch of soil I assumed was young Elizaveta's grave. Stabbing the shovel into the dirt, I took one last calming breath before scooping some dirt up and casting it aside. Dirt pile after dirt pile, I dug deeper as I attempted to locate the poor woman. I was close to giving up until the shovel hit something hard. Gulping, I sat the shovel down on the cold ground and crouched down, pushing the dirt aside.

Underneath it laid the skeleton, in all it's decayed glory, of Elizaveta. Gagging slightly, I stood and stared down at her with wide-eyes. Part of me wished I hadn't found her. Another part of me knew that I could help lay her to rest now that she were located. Figuring out this mystery would set everyone that was involved in it to rest. Once I figured out everything, I'm sure she'd be a lot happier by then.

Leaving the shovel there, I quickly walked back inside. There was one other room I hadn't checked thoroughly. And the unfinished room near the attic. I had yet to check those. Making my way upstairs, I walked down the hall and into the master bedroom. The warm creamy gold colors were rather welcoming, unlike the rest of the house. After searching through drawers of clothes and medicine, I came across a beautiful green colored book with pink flowers printed all over the cover. Obviously it was her diary. Now I could hear her side of things.

_'April 1st_

_Roderich has returned from his trip to Germany. I was more than ecstatic to announce to him that I am with child. He seems to have enjoyed the news, though he expressed his worry for both me and the child. He sent for his old doctor friend from Switzerland to lend a hand around the house._

_I hope it all goes well.' _

I eyed the entry carefully. Roderich sounded like an all around fine chap. And Elizaveta spoke highly of him throughout the whole month of April. Skipping through may, I learned that Roderich left for his African trip around the tenth and didn't return until two months later. The only word she would receive from him would come when he'd send his blasted African relics home. She expressed her hatred for his hobby a lot in her diary and said that it would have to go once the child was born. Nearing the end of her pregnancy, she stopped writing for a while until exactly two months after.

_'February 20th_

_Something happened to the child. I instructed Vash to take care of it. Roderich is extremely unstable and doesn't understand, blaming that God forsaken mask for it all._

_William, my dear sweet boy, if you ever read this let it be known that mommy loves you dearly.' _

William? Their son? How could he if he died? Did Vash not mention it in his journal? Mercury poisoning, wasn't it? Clearly Elizaveta is delusional, right? She has to be! Replacing the book in the drawer, I closed it and stood. Leaving the room, I swiftly walked back to my own. Maybe Wash had more than one journal?

After searching the desk and dresser, coming up empty-handed in both places, I moved to the bedside table. Of course a man who seemed less than normal would put it in the most obvious of places! I opened it swiftly and was immediately met with insane ramble.

_'Jan. 1st_

_I did it. I did it. Was it really my fault? How could it be? I'm normally so precise, I recheck everything I give to my patients! How could I have helped cause this? William... I had to. She had asked for something to help and I gave it to her. How could I have said no? Saying no to a patient and refusing them help is beyond me.'_

_'Feb. 4th_

_I can't. Roderich is getting worse. What am I suppose to do? We got rid of that mask. Locked it away. He believes it's that mask that's doing all of this because of the history of the tribe. And I'm letting him believe that...'_

_'April_

_I can't believe I came home to find what I had. Roderich covered in blood, sitting at his piano playing as if nothing was wrong. I try to ask him what he's done and he simply states that he attacked before the mask did. That Elizaveta is now safe under the ground. Feliciano showed me the picture. How could I let this happen?'_

_'May_

_The police came and took him. He won't admit to anything, saying it's all the mask and that he's innocent. Now's my chance to admit to what I've done. I had some part in this. But, could I? Could I really tell the truth now after letting it go on for so long?'_

_'God, what day is it? I hear those voices again... All of those accusing voices. Why me? Why did I have to agree to this? Lili...I'm sorry...'_

_'The guilt is too much! I can't handle this! The voices know what I did, and what's worse is I have to live every second of my life knowing I had a hand in both the demise of Elizaveta and Roderich! He had commit suicide in his cell today... He knew it wasn't his fault... I knew it wasn't his fault... And here I sat. Watching from the sidelines as the police shoved him into the car and whisked him away to jail. This is the last time I'm going to write in this wretched book. I don't deserve to sit here alive as my friend and his wife rot in the ground! Roderich wasn't guilty. It was all my fault. William, I'm sorry.'_

I read over the last entry a few more times before setting the book back down. What did Vash mean? All his fault? What was all his fault? How had he helped Roderich go insane?

Closing the bedside table's drawer, I sat back on my bed. Maybe a good night's sleep will help clear my head so I can re-evaluate this mystery from a different view...

* * *

**A twist! Is William alive? Did he not die? Oh my, so many possibilities!**

**Thanks for reading thus far! Reviews make me smile!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor Scratches. **

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Scratch, scratch, scratch...

Slowly, my eyes drifted open. That scratching noise again. It felt as if it vibrated around the room. It was louder this time. More persistant. drowsily, I looked around the room just as I had the last time. Every light was out and the striking blue walls were barely visible in the dim lighting from the moon that overlooked the house. I had fallen asleep early yesterday in hopes that a few hours rest would help me figure out not only the ending for my book, but this enormous mystery I've seemed to gotten myself in. But with this constant scratching noise there'd be no way I could get back to bed.

Giving a sigh, I hoisted myself up from the bed, knowing full well where I'd have to go. The basement.

The floorboard creaked with my every step as I walked towards my bedroom door and placed my hand atop the doorknob. Turning it, the door slide open with ease and I was met with the dreary, dismal hallway I've become accustomed to. Only the scratching had stopped and was replaced by loud banging. Squinting, I looked down the hallway and noticed one of the doors to the African room was ajar, only slightly, and it was letting a tiny sliver of light out. Who could be in there? I had locked the front door, had I not? Unless it was Francis. But what could he want that would be in that room? As always, my curiosity got the better of me and I padded my way down the hall and towards the door silently. Pushing it open, I was met with the usual sight of the African Shrine but no one was in here. The only difference in the room was the fact that the huge class case that held a pair of elephant tusks had been moved from the corner to reveal a small wooden door. Whoever was in here had taken the nails out of the bottom of the case and had moved it away from the corner. Was this the hiding place Vash had been talking about?

I gulped in order to will down the pang of fear that welled up in my gut. Nothing could go wrong, it was just a door! And this was my house so I deserve to know about every nook and cranny in this place! With that firmly established in my head, I walked for the door and slid it open. Nothing of much interest really, a few boxes and for some reason bamboo. But what was odd was the fact that an empty pedestal sat in front of me. Something must have been sitting here. Something they wanted to hide. Or more over, something Vash wanted to hide. Sighing again, I decided that I could investigate this in the morning. No use in getting worked up when you're half asleep, correct? As I turned to leave the small hidden room, I stopped dead in my tracks. There in front of the door were two things I would rather not see during my stay here. One of which was a small boy in rags. He was pretty thin and would probably be eye level with my stomach. He wasn't making any signs of movement, just standing. Simply just being. The second thing in this scenario that I didn't want to see was what the boy had over his face. The horrible thing that had apparently started all of this in Roderich's mind. The mask. The horrible, dreadful mask. They eye holes were pitch black, so I couldn't tell if the child were looking at me or not. He said nothing to me, so therefore I said nothing to him. We stood there for the longest while. The only sound in the room was the faint beating of...drums? Why am I hearing drums? And where were they coming from?

Suddenly, movement. I snapped out of my thoughts and focused on the boy. He was slowly moving his arm upwards to his left. Ever so slowly his arm ascended into the air. It took me some time before I realized what exactly he was doing...

"Don't touch-!"

As my feet and hands went forward, the boy grabbed the handle to the door and closed it with a loud resounding slam. Pulling and kicking did nothing, the door wouldn't budge. It were as if more than just the boy was holding it shut! As I pulled harder and harder I heard a faint dragging noise. What was he doing? I placed my ear onto the cold, dusty wood of the door to hear better. Something heavy was most definitely being dragged, but what? Eventually I felt something heavy brace against the door and more banging sounded through the tiny room.

"He's not.. You sodding brat! Move this case this instant!" I yelled as I started to bang on the door loudly with my fists.

Like bloody hell if this brat was going to lock me in this tiny room! Why wouldn't the door move?! As I pushed and pulled against the door in failed attempts at stopping the child, the banging stopped. Feet shuffled around the room and soon, the entire place was filled with voices. Voices of every emotion. Anger, sadness, regret, happy... What was going on? Why am I hearing all of this?

* * *

I bolted upright in bed, eyes wide and my breathing labored. What kind of dream was that? Who was the little boy and why was he wearing that God awful mask? The sun streamed into the room from the window to my right above my desk. Clearly morning had come and judging by the time on my watch I had over slept for it was already noon. Had I really slept that long?

RING, RING, RING...

The phone? Why would anyone be calling me?

I slipped out of bed and got dressed quickly and made my way downstairs towards the phone. Whoever it was must have a very good reason for calling me because very few people have this number.

"Yes?"

"Arthur."

I paused. Why was this person calling me? "Yes, Lovino? How did you get-"

"Antonio. You wanted me to translate a letter right?"

"Well, if you wa-"

"Screw you."

Another pause, "Excuse me?"

"Why the hell would you send me my brother's letters?!"

His brother? "Lovino, I assure you, I had no clue it was your brother. If I had I wouldn't have even requested Antonio ask you."

He scoffed into the phone lightly, "Sure. How the hell did you even get it?!"

"I'm renting a house and I found it in the maid's room. Lovino, I'm being honest, if I had known you were related-"

"Wait.. What house?"

"Edelstein Manor?"

This time, he paused, "Why would you take that house...?"

"I'm starting to ask myself the same question..."

There was another long silence before he spoke up, obviously reading from the letter.

"Dear Brother,

I know it's a bit to late to ask this, and I know that I left on my own, but could you and Antonio gather up the money to come and get me? I'm not sure I can stand it in this house any longer. Master Roderich is getting worse... Vash seems to be agreeing with him now... Elizaveta is...

Just please find some way to come and get me? Please?

Love with all my heart,

Feli."

Sighing through my nose, I rubbed my temples lightly, "That's all it said..?"

"Yeah. Look, I don't particularly like you but if you know what's good for you, you'd get out of that house. Feli went through a lot there and he had to go through therapy to forget half of it," Lovino huffed in almost a whisper.

"I'll leave as soon as I figure things out. I can't just leave it at this."

And with that, I hung up. If things were so bad for Feliciano then I couldn't just leave the house in a mess like this. This had to be solved. It wasn't fair to everyone that was involved in the incident. I promised myself I would solve this and that was what I was going to do.

* * *

Making another trip back to the shed, I grabbed a hammer and was in the African room digging up the nails to the case. If that mask was back there, I wanted to see it. And maybe even destroy it myself. As the last nail detached from the floor boards and fell from the hammer, I stood and pushed the case aside. Like in the dream, the door loomed over me silently as I stepped forward to open it. Placing my hand in the crook of the sliding door I could hear faint drums beating. Also like my dream. But to solve this, I'll have to brave the mask despite all I've heard about it. Giving a final sigh, I slid the door open and unlike my dream, the mask sat there smiling at me with that wicked smile. The drums had gotten louder and I could hear the voices from last night's dream again. They weren't loud, small whispers...something you could easily mistake as your mind playing tricks on you. But I knew better.

Time to get rid of it.

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**Sad to say, but I do believe one more chapter and this is done! Though it didn't get many views (which oddly, I was expecting because the game isn't THAT popular), I had fun writing this! I'll say this ahead of time so I won't get any reviews like; "I'm still confused!"**

**The ending is supposed to be vague. You're suppose to be left guessing. And a heads up, my girlfriend is going to be writing the sequel that will tie this up (because she asked and I said alright, hehe). So, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! Hopefully once people see that it's done, they will read it x3 I've been told most people don't read until they see it's finished or something. I don't know. Either way! This was fun and I'm excited to be finishing another story up! I've been meaning to for a while and I'm glad that this one was so quick for I've got a lot on my hands with Slender 2!**

**Reviews make me happy!**

**Love, ShuChan**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello everyone. Welcome to the last chapter. This ending is going to be SO amazing and epic, you wont be able to see straight for the next two hours!**

**Only joking, I'm not that amazing! xD**

**Anyway, this is indeed the last chapter. I would like to thank anyone and everyone who has reviewed and favorited this fic! It meant a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this very last chapter and remember, my girlfriend (who's username is IBeautifullyImperfectI) is going to write the 'sequel'. She's been wanting to for a while so I'm finishing this up (don't worry, it's not rushed).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor Scratches. **

* * *

As I sat in the living room alone, I began leafing through the journals and diaries one last time. There had to have been something I missed. A clue I over looked. Something, just something.

The fire crackled in the fireplace lightly as the flames danced around against the wood and the marbled wall behind it. If it weren't for the nagging feelings in my gut and the mask that sat beside me on the coffee table, it would have been a rather comfortable setting. The faint drums and voices rambled on as I silently skimmed through each page to look for more clues on what to do next. Coming across the word 'bone', I paused and looked over the paragraph. Roderich had done his research. The tribe used bones as sacrifices from their killings to 'appease' the spirit of the mask. Was that what Roderich was attempting to do with Elisaveta? It required a bone from an animal and one from a human. There was a lion tooth in the African Shrine and of course...Elisaveta...

The bones were the be ground up and melded together before offered to said mask and the spirits would take it as a peace offering once the ritual was completed. So, if I were to use both teeth, grind them up, somehow melt them into one component object, the so-called 'curse' would be lifted. Is that how it worked?

Huffing, I sat the book aside and looked at the mask. If this is what had to be done, there was no way I could get past it, huh? Not like I hadn't defecated her grave enough as is, of course.

"Best get to it then..."

Walking out of the living room and through the front door, I made my way over to the open grave of Elisaveta and picked up the discarded and forgotten shovel. Gulping, I silently bid her my forgiveness before slamming the tip of the shovel down onto her mouth and breaking a tooth off. I picked it up quickly before heading back inside where the drumming and voices had gotten louder, causing the walls to mentally vibrate in my mind. It must know what I'm doing... I went upstairs, skipping two steps at a time, and made my way to the double doors of Roderich's obsession. Flinging open the doors, I grabbed the necklace with the lion's tooth on it and threw it on the floor, smashing the golden chain into pieces before the tooth fell out. So far so good... From my position, I could clearly hear the drumming now... How could it tell what I was doing? Shaking it off, I scooped up the lion's tooth and headed downstairs where the grinder was in the kitchen. I put both teeth inside and ground them with the handle on the top, huffing from the exertion. Where could I melt-

I glanced over at the stove. Could it still be in working order? If so, I could use the flame from the eye to melt them together! Grabbing a pot, I poured the ash into said metal container before turning on the eye and placing the pot there with a little bit of water. Watching carefully, over a matter of time the ashes melded into a small emerald stone. After letting it cool for a minute I picked it up imideately and rushed to the mask and picked it up as well. Assuming it would rather be on some sort of podium to appeal to it's 'otherwordly greatness', I made my way back to the African room and into the small alcove where I had originally found the mask. Setting it upright against a wall, I slowly laid the stone in front of it before chanting what Roderich had written in the journal. Some African chant that he had heard the villagers singing during their ritural. The air around me quickened, swirling and twirling about my figure as I sat in front of the mask. The drums and voices had gotten louder and quicker as the air became stale and toxic before soon, everything stopped. The air stilled, the atmosphere quieted, the drums had stopped beating, the voices had stopped whistling. The house felt...lighter, in a sense. Lighter now that it's torment had been uplifted.

Smiling, I stood. I had figured it out. I had broken the horrible, deadly curse. And now, all I wanted to do was leave. But the fire...

Remembering I had left the fire still ablaze, I walked down the stairs and into the living room.

Only to find that it was out...

Strange... Did I not leave the fire the way it was? No way could it have been I who had put it out, I was upstairs! Walking slowly over to it, I inspected the fireplace carefully and shivered when I felt a cold draft rush from under it. What was that? Putting my hand down and running it along the ledge, I felt more cold air rush in through the invisible crack. I pushed it lightly. Something clicked. I pushed it again. The logs moved. What was that? Pushing it one final time, the bottom of the fireplace moved away and slid back into the wall, logs and all. I sat there staring in awe. My heart skipped a beat as I looked down the ladder onto the hard cement floor below. What had I just stumbled upon? Clearly this mystery wasn't finished. Was there more to this than I had originally suspected? Gulping, I descended down the wooden ladder as landed as my shoes made a dull click on the cement floor.

Looking around I was met with a cold, damp, dreary room with a single sink and trash. Ahead of me laid a hallway and I could faintly make out a door beyond that. Best to check there then... Huffing a calming breath, I walked down the hall and towards the door. It was locked with a rusty padlock. Rusty being the keyword. It could break easily under the right pressure. Glancing around I smiled when my eyes landed on the sole gardening shovel in the corner near the door. What luck! I quickly retrieved it and slammed it against the lock a few good times before it snapped and fell to the floor and the door creaked open eerily. Here goes nothing...

I walked into the messy room and grimaced at the thick smell of urine and feces. Who could be living down here? To my left stood a lone wooden table with what looked like blood splattered all over the top. Walking farther in, I passed the table and looked at the poor, tattered teddy bear that lay on a rock, also covered in blood. A teddy bear... This couldn't be...! Willing down the strong, every lasting feeling to run, I walked over to a small barred window that had blood dripping and trickling down the wall underneath it. It was still wet.. Below it sat a few pieces of raw meat on the dirty floor. Clearing my throat, I looked toward the hole in the wall that was right beside it. Maybe something was hiding in it. Something of value. Forcing my better judgement to the back of my mind, I slowly stalked towards the hole and gagged as the horrid smells got thicker. As I neared the hole, a loud and menacing growl sounded from inside.

What could that have been?

Squinting, I peered inside and noticed a pair of eyes staring back at me. And animal perhaps? It moved. No, it was bigger than a mere cat or dog. It moved again. Was that a hand?! As I peered in closer a boy, whose height would reach near to my chest, clambered out. I jumped back quickly, dodging the extremely long nails as they aimed for my face. I wouldn't have been so startled if it were for the poor child's face. He was disfigured. And not just disfigured, extremely disfigured. His eye was bulged out, the other was fused shut, his cheeks were enlarged on the left side of his face and his jaw hung limply from his face. Was this..?

I had no time to think as the child attacked again. Running on adenaline and fear, I turned around and ran for the door. Bolting down the hall at rapid speed. Taking a fleeting chance to glance back, I noticed the boy lumbering after me quickly on all fours, drool dripping from his lower jaw. Taking not another minute to stare I quickly climbed up the ladder and ran out the front door, leaving every belonging I brought with me in my room. Dashing towards my car, I kicked the gates open and hopped in and hoped the car would start. I slipped in the keys, turning it a few times as I watched the door. Hopefully that boy couldn't climb ladders. Just as I noticed a shadow moving inside, the car kicked in with a whirring sound and I backed up before stepping on the gas and hauling out of the gates.

That was the last time I ever went back to that house. Never to return, I wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened. I may have not solved the mystery in full but I was done with that house. Now and forever.


End file.
